


o magnum mysterium

by Emily_Nicaoidh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexual Katsuki Yuuri, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Sex Toys, St. Petersburg, bigbangonice2018, inexperienced yuuri, medium angst with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-16 12:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13635927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_Nicaoidh/pseuds/Emily_Nicaoidh
Summary: Phichit had summed up his romantic history perfectly: he hadn’t been intentionally waiting for someone in particular, but Yuuri had known for a long time that he was demisexual, and with the pressures of skating and finishing university, he hadn’t bothered trying to date anyone seriously before Viktor. Yuuri really had ignored the dating and party scene to focus on finishing school and perfecting his skating.He knew it sounded improbable and childish. That was what kept him from admitting it to Viktor, who surely expected that anyone who had been to university in America had been around the block a few times. Yuuri had no idea how to explain himself, or if he even wanted to try. Maybe Viktor would somehow guess and spare Yuuri from a ridiculous and likely deeply embarrassing conversation?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For my Big Bang!!! on ICE fic I wanted to explore an idea that I have struggled with personally over the past several years: the way society categorizes people as either virgin or experienced. 
> 
> It's a little absurd to me that society categorizes people as either virgins or not when that binary erases a wide range of experiences and preferences, and this the idea that I've tried to develop in this fic. 
> 
> One of the many reasons that I love Katsuki Yuuri (how shall I count the ways...) is for the way his anxiety is portrayed in the show. As a person with anxiety, he feels relatable and real. I've chosen to write Yuuri as the less-experienced partner in this fic, but I'd like to mention now that by no means do I think this is the only way to read the characters. I appreciate that the canon is vague about their past relationships, and I can just as easily see Viktor as being the inexperienced partner, and I have a WIP on this theme :) 
> 
> This fic was beta read by imaginarydragonling and Bee(ohfudgecakes). I don't know where I would be without their careful reading and thoughtful suggestions. 
> 
> [Twomenofnote](http://twomenofnote.tumblr.com) read an early versin of parts of this fi and encouraged me to keep writing it. Thank you for believing in this fic! I hope it lives up to what I tried to do.
> 
> [Akuroitenshi](http://akuroitenshi.tumblr.com) made two pieces of art for this fic that I am 1000% in love with. Please check them out!
> 
> Thank you to the blob squad on the BBOI discourse for solidarity with the struggles of writer life. Your friendship helped me make it to the end of the longest fic I've ever written.
> 
> Finally, if you've made it to the end of this overly emotional and rambly author's note, I'd like to thank you for sticking around and wish you happy reading!

 

“So.” Phichit grabbed the hamster that was attempting to launch itself off of his shoulder and put it somewhere to his left that Yuuri couldn’t see through the window of their video chat. “Our celebrity sex bet from college. I honestly did not expect you to win this, but here we are: you are somehow actually sleeping with your idol, and drunken pledges need to be respected. I demand to know how he is in bed. Tell me everything.” 

 

Yuuri squirmed.  _ Why is this so difficult to explain? It’s Phichit.  _ Now that their conversation had finally turned to the real reason that he had called, he struggled to explain out loud what he was worried about. “Well...I don’t know how he is in bed, actually. We haven’t slept together.”

 

“How on earth is that possible?“ Phichit asked. “Viktor, who stripped at a restaurant before the Cup of China? Viktor, the most physically affectionate man on the planet? How have you guys not been doing it from day one?”

 

“Well...okay, yeah, he is naked in public on the reg,” Yuuri admitted. “And he’s the same in private. Hang on, I just found somewhere to sit.” Yuuri set his phone on the armrest of a chair that had just opened up, and dumped his backpack on the ground beside it so that he could finally stretch his aching shoulders, then settled into the. “Okay, I’m back.“ 

 

“So how is there even a problem?”

 

“Well...aside from, you know, constantly flinging his clothes off, he never makes a move!”

 

“Why don’t you make a move?” Phichit asked. “Also, how on earth does constantly getting naked not count as making a move?”

 

“He’s so confident, right?” Yuuri said, then hesitated. This was it. The depths of his fears and insecurities around Viktor and everything sexual. Could he actually say this out loud without throwing up? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that his best friend deserved honesty if he was going to ask his advice. 

 

Yuuri held the phone closer to his face, not caring that Phichit would get a magnified view of his lips, so that he could talk a little more quietly.  “I’m worried that he doesn’t want that out of our relationship. Or maybe he thinks I’m too inexperienced for him? I’m both worried that he does want sex and doesn’t want it, I guess.”

 

“What, you honestly think he’s asexual or something? We’re still talking about Viktor, right? The guy who came up with Eros?”

 

“I don’t know, what if that was just like, an aesthetic thing?”

 

“Yuuri. Trust me, that was not just an aesthetic thing. There’s just no way. This man wants you, Yuuri. Everyone with eyes knows it. You just need to go talk to him! Say, Hey Viktor I’ve been happily, voluntarily celibate my entire life up till now cause I’m a demisexual who’s never really fallen in love before, but now here you are so it’s time to get naked?” Phichit did his imitation of Yuuri’s voice, the one that always made them both giggle uncontrollably because it sounded nothing at all like Yuuri. 

 

“He’s already naked,” Yuuri reminded him, when he had stopped laughing and could breathe again. “What if he’s...I don’t know, annoyed at me for being inexperienced, though?”

 

“He definitely will not be,” Phichit promised. “The man adores you and you just need to say something.”

 

“So what do I do?” 

 

“I think you gotta make a move, bro,” Phichit said. “Or say something, at the very least. I think he’s probably waiting for you to do something.”

 

“Okay, you’re probably right, he’s probably not asexual,” Yuuri agreed.  “If by the time we get back to the apartment, he hasn’t made a move, I’ll try to come up with something.”

 

“You don’t want to join the mile-high club?” Phichit asked.    
  


“Absolutely not,” Yuuri said firmly, glancing around to see if anyone sitting near him had overheard Phichit. “I plan to sleep the entire flight back and hope that he does the same.”

 

“Boring,” Phichit sighed. “Oh well. You’re less likely to end up with strangers instagramming your relationship if you keep it low key in public, I guess.” He sounded disappointed.

 

“I do not want strangers instagramming my relationship,” Yuuri said. “I get enough of that secondhand from your followers anyway. Some of them are pretty stalkerish.”

 

A muffled voice began playing over the airport address system, and Yuuri glanced at the time with a start. “Oh shit, we’re boarding soon. Gotta go and find Viktor, I think he’s still at the duty free shopping.” Yuuri said. 

 

“Okay! Let me know how it goes!” Phichit said with a wave. 

 

Yuuri tapped out of the app and stuffed his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie. It all sounded so reasonable and easy when Phichit said it, but if he knew how to ask his fiancé the kinds of questions that apparently the rest of the world thought they had already sorted out by now, well, they would have already sorted this out by now. He shouldered his backpack and grabbed the handle of his carryon, dragging it behind him on one slightly wobbly wheel until he reached the duty free shop, an overly-fluorescent hellscape of smiling salespeople all trying to talk to him at once that made his usual anxiety step up to double time.

 

Fortunately, he spotted Viktor only a few feet into the shop, at the checkout counter. The attendant was handing him a large bag, which Yuuri hoped meant that Viktor was done shopping. Yuuri edged closer to the duty free area, trying to get within earshot without actually having to go inside what he felt was the most unpleasant part of any airport.

 

“Viktor!” The silver head turned, and seeing Yuuri’s hurried wave towards their gate.“Our flight’s boarding soon.”

 

“Okay!” Viktor slung his bag of spoils over a shoulder and hurried after Yuuri to the gate. 

 

Traveling with Viktor meant traveling the way Viktor traveled, and Yuuri was surprised by how fast he was getting used to first class. By the time the the rest of the seats were full, Yuuri was snuggled into the lightweight fleece blanket he packed for napping on the plane and Viktor was doing his best to deplete the airline’s supply of vodka. 

 

Yuuri was asleep before takeoff, just the way he preferred.

  
  


Yuuri awoke when the plane was over a dark ocean to the sound of Viktor’s snores beside him. During his sleep, he had shifted so that he was leaning halfway over Viktor, a collection of miniature vodka bottles scattered on the seat around him. Yuuri smiled fondly at Viktor’s soft snores.

 

Viktor slept through the rest of the flight, alternating between leaning against the window and dropping his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder and mumbling things in Russian that Yuuri couldn’t understand, though he did catch the words “Makkachin”, “Katsudon”, and “Vkusno” several times. 

 

After waking up, Yuuri couldn’t fall asleep again, and spent the flight fidgeting with his seatbelt, then twisting his headphones around in his hands, then futilely trying to read a book. He refused all offers of alcohol when the flight attendants came around; he didn’t want a repeat of his embarrassment at the Sochi banquet. 

 

_ So what if they hadn’t talked about sex yet?  _ As much as Yuuri tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter, it was occupying his thoughts full-time ever since their  _ Stammi Vicino _ skate, and he knew there was a limit on how long he could stew over it before Viktor figured it out. 

 

_ You always make mistakes when you’re worried about something, _ Viktor had said in practice months ago after Yuuri fell on a jump, and he was right. As soon as they got back on the ice, Viktor would know something was wrong and demand to have it out.

 

Yuuri knew he wasn’t ready for that.

 

Just like he was pretty sure he wasn’t ready for what would probably come of the conversation. 

 

There was no way that Viktor was asexual, Yuuri thought. How could anyone be after spending so much time with Chris, who was constantly dragging even the most reserved skaters into his debauched outings? That, combined with the look of pure jealousy that Chris had given Yuuri the first time he saw Yuuri and Viktor together...there had definitely been something going on there at some point, Yuuri thought. If anything, it made it easier, knowing that at least one of them knew what the hell to do. While Yuuri generally felt lucky that, thanks to living with Phichit, who had carefully arranged his own trysts so that Yuuri never walked in on him hooking up, he doubted that Viktor understood the extent of his inexperience.

 

Phichit had summed up his romantic history perfectly: he hadn’t been intentionally waiting for someone in particular, but Yuuri had known for a long time that he was demisexual, and with the pressures of skating and finishing university, he hadn’t bothered trying to date anyone seriously before Viktor. Yuuri really had ignored the dating and party scene to focus on finishing school and perfecting his skating. 

 

He knew it sounded improbable and childish. That was what kept him from admitting it to Viktor, who surely expected that anyone who had been to university in America had been around the block a few times. Yuuri had no idea how to explain himself, or if he even wanted to try. Maybe Viktor would somehow guess and spare Yuuri from a ridiculous and likely deeply embarrassing conversation? It wasn’t impossible, he told himself.

  
  


Their flight to St. Petersburg, which Viktor had booked at the last minute on the only available (tiny) plane, was too small to have wifi. Yuuri wished he could talk to Phichit already. He always had something funny to say, always knew just the right way to deflect the anxiety that bloomed so easily in Yuuri’s mind at the slightest provocation.

 

Yuuri turned and stared out the window over Viktor’s head. They were flying over somewhere with mountains, the Alps maybe? He wasn’t so good with foreign geography, and Viktor’s head was blocking most of the window anyway.

 

“Yuuri, mmmf,  _ yes, _ ” Viktor mumbled, then started to snore.

 

It was the most intelligible thing Viktor had said in his sleep the entire flight, and his words sent Yuuri spiralling into panic.

 

_ Yes? Yes to what? Why did he say my name? Why is he talking in English in his sleep? Yes to what? Oh my god, is he dreaming about us doing--what? What is he dreaming about? What am I doing in his dream? Oh my god, oh my god.  _

  
  
  
  


“Yuuri. Yuuuuuri,” Viktor intoned, poking Yuuri in the shoulder. “We’re here.”

 

He raised his head from Viktor’s shoulder, where he had apparently been sleeping for some time. “What?”

 

“St. Petersburg. The plane’s landed,” Viktor repeated. 

 

Yuuri pulled his headphones out of his ears and stuffed them in his pocket, and followed Viktor down the aisle and off of the plane.

 

He didn’t mean to, but Yuuri fell asleep again on the taxi ride from the airport to Viktor’s apartment. Sleeping on the plane had left his neck feeling stiff and had done little to assuage his exhaustion. He awoke again to Viktor gently tugging on his hand, standing outside of a taxi he barely remembered getting into, their suitcases scattered on the sidewalk behind Viktor. He was pretty sure he fell asleep again in the elevator up to Viktor’s floor, standing up, leaning heavily into Viktor’s shoulder.

 

\--

 

Yuuri followed Viktor down the hallway, dragging his bag behind him and then letting it drop. While they had slept in beds pushed together at the hotel in Barcelona, he didn’t want to assume anything about where he would be sleeping in Viktor’s apartment.

 

“This is my--well,  _ the _ bedroom,” Viktor said, sweeping the door open with a hand. Inside the (pristine, of course, because it was  _ Viktor _ ) white carpeted room stood a tall dresser and a single, enormous bed. 

 

Yuuri swallowed.  _ Well,  _ he thought.  _ Guess that answers that. _ He followed Viktor through the door, not understanding a word Viktor was saying. There was some kind of fog over his ears and Viktor might as well have been speaking Russian.

 

But Viktor must have noticed that something was off, because he suddenly spun around and fixed Yuuri with a serious gaze. “We’re all alone here now,” he said, backing Yuuri into the door, which swung shut as Yuuri bumped into it. 

 

“We’ve been alone ever since we got out of the taxi,” Yuuri protested. 

 

“Now we’re alone in my-- _ our  _ bedroom,” Viktor said. He watched Yuuri’s face carefully, and set a hand on Yuuri’s hip. “I know something’s been bothering you lately. I haven’t been able to work out what it is, so why don’t you just tell me? Are you just tired from traveling? There’s nothing we have to do tomorrow. You can sleep in as late as you want.”

 

Yuuri’s face burned. “It’s nothing important,” he said. What else was there to say? The truth? 

 

The truth was horrible.  _ You’re almost certainly not a virgin and I absolutely am, and I don’t know what you expect out of this relationship physically and what if Phichit’s wrong and you are asexual and I don’t think I even know what I expect. I don’t understand why you haven’t made more of a...move, isn’t that what people call it-- yet. Or do you not want that with me? Because I don’t know for sure, but I think I might want that with you. _

 

No, he absolutely could not tell the truth. Out of the question.

 

“Hmm, Yuuri’s lying to me. My fiancé is lying to me in our own bedroom,” Viktor mused, pushing his nose into Yuuri’s hair. “What should I do about that?”

 

“Ahh-Viktor--,” Yuuri gasped.  _ Is he mad? He doesn’t sound mad. Fuck, I can’t tell. Why is he suddenly so close? _

“Yuuri.” Viktor frowned, drew back a few centimeters. “Are you tired from the flight? Let’s go to bed.”

“I’m not tired from the flight,” Yuuri answered immediately because thank God finally here was a question that was easy to answer honestly.

“Good.” Viktor grinned, and there was something hungry in it that Yuuri was both a little afraid of and utterly drawn to. “Because I’m not either. Let’s go to bed.”

_ This is happening this is fucking happening _ , Yuuri’s brain intoned helpfully as he followed Viktor over to the bed. He watched, transfixed as Viktor pulled back the duvet and, in classic Viktor Nikiforov style, somehow flung most of his clothes off in a single, swift movement, then dove beneath the covers.

“Yuuri,” Viktor complained when Yuuri didn’t immediately follow him. “It’s cold in here. Come warm me up.”

Yuuri took a deep breath and bent to pull off his shoes.  _ Why am I so worried about him seeing me naked? We used to sit in the onsen together every single day, for crying out loud _ , Yuuri thought. But there it was: he did not want to take off any more layers. He took off his jacket, figuring it would look pretty ridiculous and possibly completely give him away if he got into bed with Viktor still wearing a winter coat, then raised the edge of the duvet and climbed into bed.

The anxiety backlash from this bold move was immediate and relentless. Yuuri pressed his lips shut, willing himself not to throw up. From copious past experience he knew that would most likely not happen, but that cold knowledge did little to calm him down. His eyes watered, and he was glad that at least he was already facing away from Viktor, who could never know how much this was stressing him out.  _ You’ve been in bed with Viktor before, _ he told himself sternly.  _ Get a grip. You want to be in bed with Viktor. This is what you wanted to happen, so calm the fuck down. He’s not going to want to sleep with you if you’re an anxious mess.  _

 

But this time felt completely different and new, getting into bed with Viktor saying he wasn’t tired and knowing that there was no competition looming in his future, requiring him to get a full night’s sleep. Tonight was an entirely new form of getting into bed with Viktor, and it was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. It reminded him of the first time he attempted a single loop, years ago as a child. He had thrown himself into the air, wanting desperately to land the jump and scared stiff that he would fail.

“Hey,” Viktor said, wriggling over towards Yuuri until his chest was pressed against Yuuri’s back and his chin resting over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Um. Hey,” Yuuri managed.

“I was thinking about this the entire flight here,” Viktor whispered.

“You were asleep the entire flight here,” Yuuri replied.  _ Wait. Did that mean—was that what he had been talking in his sleep about, that thing he said in English? _

“Dreaming of you, here,” Viktor whispered, his lips somehow even closer to Yuuri’s ear than they had been before. “What happens next, now that I have you here, hmm? That’s up to you,  _ solnyshko _ .”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri gulped, turning his head to look at Viktor and succeeding only in mashing his ear into Viktor’s mouth.

“There are so many things we could do,” Viktor mumbled around a mouthful of ear. “Like this, maybe?” He bit down delicately on the tip of Yuuri’s ear.

“Oh. That’s--that’s nice,” Yuuri said.

“Like that, do you?” Viktor whispered, releasing Yuuri’s ear and pressing a much more chaste kiss to Yuuri’s neck below his ear. “What about this?”

“Ah--,” Yuuri tried to answer Viktor’s question, he really did. But as soon as Viktor’s question was in the air between them, Viktor’s lips were on Yuuri’s neck again and he found himself forgetting the words in English. After a few more moments he could barely remember them in Japanese.

 

“And this?” Viktor asked, running his fingertips along the top edge of Yuuri’s pants. “Why are you still wearing these, anyway?”

 

“I was feeling shy,” Yuuri muttered. “I’m still feeling shy.”

 

“Does that mean I shouldn’t take these off of you?” Viktor asked, his fingers settling around Yuuri’s hips.

 

“N-no,” Yuuri stammered. “I--please. I’d like you to.”

 

Viktor grinned and tugged on Yuuri’s pants, slipping them over his knees and tossing them on the floor.

 

“Oh, you are lovely,” Viktor whispered, running his fingertips over Yuuri’s knees and across his thighs. 

 

“V-Viktor,” Yuuri stuttered. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

 

“I’ve never seen you naked in our bed before,” Viktor pointed out. “Besides, you’re hardly naked. You’re still wearing these awful things.” He poked at the fabric of Yuuri’s boxer briefs that covered his hip.

 

“Do-do you want--” Yuuri’s face burned. 

 

“Do I want you to take them off?” Viktor asked. “Well. I took mine off. That doesn’t mean you have to take yours off, though,” he added. 

 

“I think I want to,” Yuuri whispered. 

 

“Oh, solnyshko,” Viktor murmured, watching as Yuuri peeled off his shorts. “Please say I can touch you.”

 

Yuuri bit his lip and nodded, watching over his shoulder as Viktor skimmed his fingers along the top of Yuuri’s thigh, his hands wandering gradually higher. 

 

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed as Viktor’s hand reached his hip and started to move inwards. 

 

With his back to Viktor’s chest, snuggled close against him, Yuuri couldn’t see Viktor’s expression, but as Viktor’s hands searched closer and closer to what seemed to be his end goal, Yuuri noticed for the first time that however embarrassing the state of his--no, he couldn’t even think the word, he realized--was, Viktor was in the exact same (if not worse) state, and that the evidence was pressed against him.

 

Viktor didn’t seem to be bothered by either of these (in Yuuri’s opinion) deeply humiliating facts, so Yuuri closed his eyes, letting a small sigh escape as Viktor sucked at the skin on the base of his shoulder.

 

“Ahh--” Yuuri found himself pushing against Viktor’s hand as the twinge at his neck increased to an actual sting, and he tried to focus on the sea of sensation: the way Viktor was now nibbling at his shoulder, the rather nice pressure of what exactly, he didn’t care to think about, pressed against his arse, and the sense of warmth and safety coming from the hand that Viktor had against him.

 

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice was suddenly serious, and Yuuri twisted around so that he could face him. 

 

“Hm?” He was suddenly chilly with the loss of the Viktor’s warmth surrounding him on all sides.

 

“Is this how you want to come?” 

 

“I--I don’t--I, what, Viktor?” Yuuri was certain his entire face was about to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. 

 

“Because there’s something that I’d like to do for you,” Viktor continued, looking at Yuuri without guile or the crushing shyness that Yuuri felt.

 

“Um--” Yuuri found he did not have an answer for this bold statement, and looked at Viktor helplessly. 

 

“But we have to talk about it first,” Viktor said. “I feel like maybe you’d rather not talk about it. But we do have to. I can do most of the talking if you can say yes or no?” He lifted an eyebrow, and Yuuri nodded.    
  


“Y-yes. I can do that.”

 

“Good.” Viktor nodded. “I’m clean, and I’m pretty sure you are too. Is that right?”

 

Yuuri hadn’t realized it was possible for his face to flush even redder, but apparently it was. He nodded. 

 

“And just to be sure, when I say that I’m clean, you know what that means? It’s okay if you don’t, solnyshko. Please tell me.”

 

“Y-yeah. I know what that means,” Yuuri’s voice was barely audible, but Viktor smiled brightly at him when he heard Yuuri’s answer.

 

“Oh, I’m so glad. I probably would have embarrassed you terribly trying to explain that one, and I really think it would have wrecked the mood.” Viktor almost sang. “One more question, my Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri nodded almost imperceptibly. 

 

“With or without?” Viktor was somehow holding a shiny, square condom packet in his hand.

 

“Um---” Yuuri did not want to answer this question..  _ If I say no is that weird? If I say yes will he get offended? I’d rather without, but what if he doesn’t want to? Is there some kind of rule for the first time with someone?  _ His thoughts abruptly blanked out as Viktor, apparently following at least some of the convoluted direction of Yuuri’s thoughts from his expression, dipped his head without warning, curling himself over Yuuri and swallowing down most of him in one swift motion.

 

Viktor’s other hand, the one not used for supporting most of his weight, found a free hand of Yuuri’s and locked their hands together, interlacing their fingers, and with that simple gesture, Yuuri was suddenly the most warm and safe and--he choked a little as Viktor did something indescribable with his tongue-- _ loved _ he had ever felt in his life, and then he was shivering and shaking and Viktor was squeezing his hand and what seemed at the time like it went on forever was probably more like a few seconds when Yuuri furtively thought of it later.

 

“You are a  _ gift _ ,” Viktor breathed, pulling off and pressing kisses to Yuuri’s cheeks, forehead, neck, shoulders, everywhere. 

 

“I--,” Yuuri started, uncertain of what to say next. His mind fizzled slowly online, and he felt vaguely that Viktor’s situation, which was pressed against the side of his hip as Viktor leaned over him to nibble on his other shoulder, deserved some attention at least as magnificent as the attention Viktor had given him, but he realized that he had no idea what to do next or how to go about that.

 

“Hm, let’s stick with this today,” Viktor murmured, catching Yuuri’s hand in one of his and wrapping them both around the source of Yuuri’s worries.  “Ohh, Yuuri, yes,” Viktor hummed as their hands pulled and squeezed together, and Yuuri was reminded of Viktor’s sleepy words on the plane.

 

“Was this what you were dreaming about on the plane?” Yuuri blurted out before considering the consequences of admitting that he had been eavesdropping on Viktor’s sleep talking.

 

“Heard that, did you?” Viktor’s voice was fond. “Oh--Yuuri, I’m going to--”

 

Yuuri’s hand was warm and sticky, and then it was cold and sticky, and Viktor was looking at him like he was the brightest star in the night sky, and Yuuri couldn’t imagine anything in the world that could be more perfect than this.

 

\--

 

“So was that it, then?” Yuuri asked, sometime later that night, when they were both cleaner and snuggled again into bed together.

 

“Was that what?” Viktor asked, lazily tracing circles on Yuuri’s earlobe with his tongue. 

 

“Was that me um,” Yuuri took a deep breath. It was probably absurd to not be able to talk about what they had just done, but the words would not come.

 

“Yes?” He was sure Viktor was taunting him at this point. He glanced up at Yuuri through his eyelashes and bit delicately at the edge of Yuuri’s ear.

 

“Was that me losing my virginity,” Yuuri whispered, then immediately covered his face with the nearest pillow. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”  

 

Viktor propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Yuuri seriously. “If you want it to be, then yes, it was.”

 

Yuuri peeked around the edge of the pillow, taking in Viktor’s earnest expression. “I think I might,” he admitted.

 

“Hm. Good,” Viktor hummed, running his fingertips along Yuuri’s thigh. “Now you don’t have to worry so much about it anymore.”

 

Yuuri’s face burned. “Wait! You  _ knew? _ ” He sat straight up, flinging the pillow at Viktor and hitting him smack in the face. “You knew and you didn’t say anything?” He reached for the bedside table and slid his glasses onto his face. 

 

“I said a lot of things tonight!” Viktor protested. “I asked you so many times if it was okay! I was trying to make you less stressed about it. Besides, you wouldn’t talk to me about it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by bringing it up before tonight!” He pressed an exaggerated kiss to the pillow, then tossed it gently back to Yuuri.

 

“I didn’t know how to bring it up!” Yuuri cried, catching the pillow and hugging it to his chest. “I didn’t know if you knew or not, and I couldn’t figure out if you even wanted...” He trailed off, digging his fingers into the pillow. 

 

“Wanted...?” Viktor prompted.

 

“Wanted that. With me,” Yuuri finished, staring down in the pillow. “It...it seems silly when I say it out loud, but...but I didn’t know. I was wondering if you were asexual. You didn’t say anything.”

 

Viktor leaned forward and put a hand over Yuuri’s right one, turning the golden ring on Yuuri’s finger around in a gentle circle. “I am definitely not asexual. I’m sorry I didn’t say something earlier,” Viktor said. “I thought this ring was proof enough of how I felt.”

 

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” Yuuri closed his eyes and leaned his head on Viktor’s shoulder, letting his fingers trace over Viktor’s ring. “I am actually kind of sleepy now,” he admitted.

 

“Me too,” Viktor said, settling beside him. 

 

“Do you mind if I just stay like this?” Yuuri asked, pressing a kiss to Viktor’s shoulder.

 

“I would love that,” Viktor said, letting an arm fall across Yuuri’s back and pulling him closer. “I’ve dreamed of us sleeping like this.” He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

 

Yuuri half-registered that Viktor was snoring, but before the thought was fully formed he had drifted off to sleep too.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Yuuri knew it was silly, for his first thought upon waking to be a pleasant  _ oh yes _ as he remembered that Viktor had relieved him of the source of the embarrassment, confusion, and anxiety that he had carried for so long, but for the first few days after they had begun a sexual relationship, relief was his first thought upon waking and his pleasant musing as he drifted to sleep at the end of the day.

 

Viktor took Yuuri to his favourite spots around St. Petersburg, and Yuuri drank more coffee and beer than he ever had since finishing college, but Viktor assured him that Yakov would have them working the few extra pounds off in no time once the new season started. So, for the first time in his life, Yuuri let himself enjoy every whipped cream-laden latte and every toast of beer, trusting that Viktor wouldn’t lead him astray. 

 

He never had yet, anyway.

 

They slept together almost every night, and after a few nights Yuuri felt brave enough to do for Viktor what Viktor had done for him, and while he was uncertain about what he was doing, the litany of mixed English and Russian praises that fell constantly from Viktor’s lips reassured him, and afterwards, Yuuri slipped gently into sleep wrapped tightly in Viktor’s arms, and it was perfect. 

 

About two weeks into Perfection, Christophe called Viktor on video chat. Viktor balanced his laptop on the arm of the sofa, exclaiming and gesturing wildly as he described his and Yuuri’s antics over the past few weeks playing tourists in Viktor’s hometown. Yuuri listened half-heartedly as he stirred the pan of vegetables he was frying.

 

“So, how are things going with Yuuri?” Chris asked. “Do I get to keep my title as the neediest bottom you’ve ever been with?” 

 

Yuuri jerked his head up in time to catch the lewd wink that Chris threw at Viktor, then quickly glanced down from the screen to the back of Viktor’s head.  _ He didn’t see me looking, _ Yuuri realized with relief.  _ Good. _

 

“Chris,” Viktor scolded, and then Yuuri’s hearing started to fade out as his usual, everyday anxiety started to spike into something much more debilitating.

 

Yuuri couldn’t hear the rest of Viktor’s reply. Something something Yuuri’s name, Chris something something something...it all blurred into incomprehensibility as the noise of Yuuri’s own skyrocketing pulse in his ears drowned it out. What was Chris talking about? It had something to do with sex, he was sure of it from Chris’ tone and from the downright sleazy wink that Chris punctuated the question with. Besides, it was  _ Chris. _ Almost everything he said had something to do with sex. Yuuri felt like the phrase Chris had used was one that he had heard before, but couldn’t put his finger on when or where.

 

And he needed to remember, urgently.

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and studied the app icons on the screen. Who had he been talking to when he had heard that term? Yuuri’s eyes settled on the video chat app that he always used to call Phichit. Phichit, of course. Phichit had called him while he was in the library, of all places, trying to finish a paper, and Yuuri had answered even though he was on a quiet floor because it was the middle of Saturday afternoon and nobody had been there, and because he knew Phichit had had a date stay over in his room the night before and he was curious how it had gone. 

Phichit had called Yuuri “so bad, no Yuuri it’s a compliment, like badass,” for answering the call while on a quiet floor, and then had proceeded to describe in just the right amount of lurid detail his hookup with a music student the night before. That was it.  _ That’s where I heard it,  _ Yuuri remembered.  _ It’s about anal sex. Shit. Shit shit shit. So he definitely did that with Chris, then. Does that mean he expects that we will do that? I don’t know if I want that, or if I do which end I want to be on. But Viktor apparently does know how he likes it. Shit.  _

 

Yuuri hastily removed the pan from the burner. The vegetables had already been reduced to a smoking, unappetizing lump. He switched off the burner and then looked down at his phone, where the results of his search had finally loaded.

 

The first result was from Urban Dictionary, and included only one of the four words from his search, but Urban Dictionary had had Yuuri’s back in so many situations when he misunderstood American slang during college that he automatically trusted it. He tapped on the link and read the few lines that appeared on the screen.

 

_ Oh my god,  _ he thought.  _ Is the sex that we’ve been having not...actual sex? Not grownup sex? Is this what Viktor actually wants? _ And then, as he poked at the charred and unrecognizable vegetables with a spatula,  _  How did I not know about this already? Does he think I already know about this? What else does Viktor think I already know about that I don’t? _

 

Yuuri tried to flick back to the results page to see if there were any results with more details, but his fingers were stiff and fat and wouldn’t obey his thoughts. His phone was loose in his hand and his eyes suddenly blurry with tears. 

 

“Oh,  _ govno _ ,” Viktor muttered, appearing at Yuuri’s side and taking Yuuri’s phone from his hands before he dropped it. “Breathe,  _ solnyshko _ ,” he instructed, wrapping Yuuri in a tight hug. “Chris is an idiot. Don’t worry about him.”

 

Yuuri leaned into Viktor’s shoulder, pressing his face into Viktor’s sweater.

 

“I’m not sure how much of that you heard,” Viktor said carefully. “But please ignore Chris. He’s an idiot,” he repeated.

 

“I didn’t--I didn’t know we hadn’t been--,” Yuuri gulped in air, his lungs burning, the words coming out all garbled. 

 

“Didn’t know what,  _ solnyshko _ ?” Viktor asked, rubbing circles on Yuuri’s back. “Deep breath. Take your time.”

 

Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to do what Viktor said. At first his breaths were tiny hiccups, but slowly they lengthened and deepened until he was able to open his eyes. Yuuri took a step back and scrubbed at his itchy, salty eyes with his sleeve.

 

“I didn’t know there was--,” Yuuri paused, not sure how to put the rest of his worry into words. “I didn’t know we weren’t doing--everything already.”

 

“Hmm,” Viktor said, handing Yuuri’s phone back to him. “There is more, but there aren’t any rules, Yuuri. There’s no schedule of what we have to do when. There aren’t even any specific things that we have to do.”

 

“But you have,” Yuuri said, gesturing at Viktor with his phone, the search results still showing on the screen.

 

“Yes, I have,” Viktor said evenly.

 

“With Chris.”

 

“And...some other people.”

 

Yuuri considered this. His phone screen dimmed and eventually went dark as he turned Viktor’s words over in his mind.

 

“It’s something that you want, in relationships,” Yuuri said eventually.

 

“Yuu--” Viktor began, but Yuuri cut him off. 

 

“It is, though.”

 

“All right. Generally speaking, it is something that I want in relationships. But it’s not the most important thing. I would rather have you and never do that again than not have you. You’re more important than some act.”

 

“Okay,” Yuuri said. He looked over Viktor’s shoulder at the pans on the stove. “I wrecked dinner.” He sniffled and dabbed at his nose with his sleeve. “And I’m gross now.”

 

“You’re never gross,” Viktor said. “It just wasn’t the best time for Chris to call,” he sighed, with an apologetic note in his voice.  

 

“Thanks. And for the record, you’re never gross either,” Yuuri said. 

 

“Ah, I’m glad! Besides, I still haven’t taken you to my favourite borscht place. Let’s go out.”

 

\--

 

Cozy in a booth at Borscht Magnifique, his coat mashed against the side and left arm looped around Viktor’s waist, Yuuri was almost able to forget his worries from earlier in the evening. His head still ached a little, but that was the usual post-panic hangover and he knew how to deal with it. 

 

“Vkusno!” Viktor hummed, drinking spoonful after spoonful of the bright pink soup.

 

“It’s pretty good, actually,” Yuuri agreed. He had been hesitant to try it at first when he saw the colour of the borscht, but after living with Phichit during his food photography Instagram phase, it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing he had ever eaten.

 

“I’ve spent so much time at this place over the years,” Viktor mused, letting his free hand rest on Yuuri’s knee. “It was one of the few places that Yakov didn’t immediately rule out as a calorie-filled obesity nightmare that would apparently ruin my chances at a gold medal.”

 

“So you take all your boyfriends here?” The question popped out before Yuuri could stop it, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it how it sounded!”

 

Viktor patted his knee. “It’s fine,” he said. “And no, I didn’t. I didn’t even take Chris here, or Mila or Yurio. I sort of wanted to keep the place to myself. Kind of a refuge from the hyper-competitive skating world.”

 

“Oh.” Yuuri tightened his arm around Viktor’s waist. “That’s...that sounds nice.”

 

“Nicer now that I can take you here,” Viktor said.

 

For some moments they were both quiet, finishing their borscht. Yuuri was faster, and while he waited for Viktor to be done he pulled out his phone. 

 

The results page from his earlier search was still saved in his browser history, and Yuuri tapped the app to open it. There were other words listed related to his search terms, and as he scrolled through them, his eyes caught on one that Viktor had, impossibly, actually said only moments ago.

 

_ Take you. _ The phrase Viktor had used was on the list. His fingers starting to get clammy, smudging the screen of his phone, Yuuri opened up the link with the definition. 

 

His breath caught. Was Viktor trying to obliquely refer to  _ that _ ? To something that he obviously wanted to do, with Yuuri or maybe with anyone who would indulge him? 

 

Yuuri took a deep, measured breath and let it out, counting slowly to five. He was being silly, he thought. Reading far too much into Viktor’s word choice in a language that was neither of their first. It had to be a coincidence.

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor sang, pushing their bowls away, “let’s go for a walk! The snow is beautiful tonight.”

 

Yuuri shrugged on his jacket and followed Viktor out. The snow was bright in the evening streetlights, and as they walked hand-in-hand through streets and avenues as familiar to Viktor as the blade of his own skates, Yuuri felt his earlier anxieties gradually evaporating. Viktor wasn’t the kind of person to hint at something this big. If there was more he wanted to say about it, Yuuri was sure that he would have come out and said it.  

 

Later that night, as he floated off to sleep, Makkachin’s comforting weight on his feet and Viktor’s arm slung across his chest, Yuuri’s final waking thought was a profound sense of awe and gratitude for his life in St. Petersburg.

  
  


\-- 

  
  


_ Dream, _ Yuuri told himself, forcing his eyes open.  _ Just a dream, not real, not real, not real.  _ He took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, letting the air out slowly as his pounding heart slowly started to settle back to a normal rate. His eyes found the spot on the ceiling where a small crack was beginning to form in the plaster and he focused on it, imagining it growing and growing across the whole expanse, splitting the roof in two and eventually the entire building. 

 

Oddly, this train of thought did help to settle his racing mind and out of control heart rate. After a few deep breaths, Yuuri let his mind drift, and for the first time since waking, he started to notice more pleasant things. 

 

Viktor. Viktor, whose warm chest was pressed against his back, whose fingertips rested on the inside of his thigh, whose... _oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck what do I do?_ _Panic mode: reactivated_ , Yuuri thought, realizing what part of Viktor was squished between them, poking at his glutes.

 

“Aaah, Yuuri,  _ yes, _ ” Viktor mumbled, the words slurred slightly with sleep. “So good. Oh, you’re so--,” Viktor wiggled his hips slightly, and Yuuri felt his face burn.

  
  


Yuuri clapped his hands over his ears, not wanting to hear the rest of whatever Viktor was dreaming about.  _ Except that I know what he’s dreaming about _ , Yuuri thought darkly.  _ It has to be...that, right? What he did with Chris. What we haven’t done. What he definitely wants us to do, as much as he says he doesn’t care. _

 

Yuuri’s hands over his ears were damp, his stomach roiling, and Yuuri was at least glad that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, that if the day had to start with a meltdown then at least there was nothing for him to throw up, and his fingers were tingling in the way that he knew meant he was going to lose control of them soon, and Yuuri wondered idly how something this out of control could still be happening if he was perfectly, transparently aware of every new stage of the panic attack as it presented itself, but awareness wasn’t a cure, wasn’t prevention, and Yuuri knew he was spiraling out of control, but he was past the point where breathing exercises could help and he could only watch himself sinking deeper, as if he was falling into a pit of water with the barest glimmer of sunlight above, barely visible through the feet and feet of water he was now beneath, being crushed under the pressure of the mass of water, his breath pressed out of him by warm hands and the comforting scent of Viktor’s shampoo-- _ what?  _

 

His eyes snapped open, and Yuuri struggled to take a breath, and there was Viktor, wrapped around him, holding him tightly and whispering words Yuuri could not understand, but the repetitive rhythm of them were like a life raft and he clung to them desperately, holding on to the sound of Viktor’s voice until he could trust his own.

 

“I love you. Makkachin loves you. You’re safe,” Viktor was saying, drawing circles on the back of Yuuri’s neck with his hand. 

 

“Oh, fuck,” Yuuri groaned, scrubbing at his wet face with his hands. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Shhh, it’s fine,” Viktor said. 

 

“I had this dream I don’t even remember and then I woke up all anxious and then…” Yuuri trailed off, realizing that he didn’t want to tell Viktor the next part. 

 

“And then what?” Viktor asked, shifting a little so that he could nibble on Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

“Nothing,” Yuuri said.

 

“Really.” Viktor deadpanned, but he didn’t press the issue.

 

Viktor tugged at Yuuri’s shoulder, inviting him to turn around, and Yuuri did, catching Viktor’s gaze and seeing nothing but love. “Okay, it’s not nothing, but I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just...” Yuuri tucked his head underneath Viktor’s and trailed kisses across his collarbone. 

 

“Oh, solnyshko, you read my mind,” Viktor hummed, reaching across Yuuri’s back and squeezing his arse in his hand. “Oh, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri felt his face flushing but kept kissing Viktor, some of the kisses turning into nibbles, and when Viktor’s hand started to --knead was the only word he could think of--his arse, Yuuri’s hips somehow, independently, impertinently, ground against Viktor and right as Yuuri realized what he was doing, how embarrassing he must look, Viktor let out a shuddering, halting “Ohhh, Yuuri,” and Yuuri knew without a doubt that the one thing he could never do was stop.

 

Viktor’s fingertips were digging into his arse and Viktor’s hips were pushing insistently at his and then they were both gasping as Viktor nudged at his cheek and when Yuuri looked up into his eyes they were kissing, and when Viktor’s tongue slipped between his lips Yuuri’s blood was on fire, every nerve in his body singing, and it was perfect. 

  
  


“This is really messy,” Yuuri said, some moments later when they could both breathe again and were twined together in a tangle of legs and arms. “Is it always this messy?”

 

“This is pretty tame, actually,” Viktor chuckled, poking at a cooling bit of stickiness on Yuuri’s belly. 

 

_ Oh. Of course it would be. Compared to...compared to that. _ Yuuri’s stomach suddenly felt hollow, the sense of rightness evaporating.

 

“Oh, no. Not like that,” Viktor said, pinching Yuuri’s belly. “I am not comparing you to Chris, by the way.”

 

“It’s not--” Yuuri started to protest, but Viktor gave him a stern look. “Okay, it is. Comparing me to Chris...I know you might not be, but I am. I can’t help it.”

 

“Hmm.” Viktor said. “What are you worried about? Seriously. Worst case scenario: go.”

 

“I’m...” Yuuri paused, trying to wrestle his anxieties into words. “I’m so new at this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought that once I, you know...um...” he trailed off, watching Viktor’s fingers dance sticky axels and loops across his belly. “I thought once I lost my virginity, I would be...I don’t know. Something else. Different. But I’m not. And it feels like there’s more that I haven’t done than I have, and I feel the same old way I used to, only somehow worse, because hello,  _ not a virgin anymore _ , I should know these things. But I don’t. And it scares me.”

 

“My sleep talking probably doesn’t help, does it?” Viktor asked sheepishly. 

 

“Wait, you know about that?” 

 

“I always have. And I usually remember my dreams too, so...” At this, Viktor blushed slightly. “I wondered if I might have said something this morning, since I woke up to you absolutely losing it.”

 

“Oh.” Yuuri was quiet. “Um, you did. Yeah, you did say something. About--” He found he couldn’t finish the sentence.

 

“About?”

 

“You remember your dreams. You know what,” Yuuri said. 

 

“Okay, so you know I was dreaming about us having anal sex.” Viktor poked at Yuuri’s cheek with sticky fingers. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a dream.”

 

“I can’t not worry, though,” Yuuri said. “I tried. It didn’t work at all.”

 

“Hmm.” Viktor wiped his fingers on a discarded shirt. “I have to think about this. Let’s take a shower.”

 

Yuuri followed Viktor into the bathroom, and wrapped in the steam and scent of Viktor’s shampoo, his earlier worries started to fade and seem almost comical. 

  
  


He was standing under the spray of hot water, rinsing conditioner from his hair, when Viktor grabbed him by the elbows, throwing Yuuri off balance so that he crashed into the side of the shower. 

 

“Yuuri! I’ve got it!” Viktor cried, wiping the conditioner off of his face that had dripped from Yuuri’s hair. 

 

“Um, got what?” Yuuri asked, extracting an arm from Viktor’s grip to wipe conditioner out of his eyes.

 

“You’re going to lose your virginity,” Viktor announced brightly, holding one hand up in a “ta-da!”  gesture.

 

“Um...I already did,” Yuuri reminded him. “With you. About twenty feet from here. In this apartment. Remember?”

 

“Sure, you lost it that way. But not every way yet. You said that you feel like you’re still a virgin in...well...quite a few senses of the word. What if we changed that? We’ll do everything that you want to do until you don’t feel inexperienced or left out anymore.” He winked in a way that was clearly meant to be salacious, but standing in front of him in the shower, Viktor’s hair sopping and dripping into his eyes and eyelashes, Yuuri just found it endearing.

 

“Oh. That’s...” He began, watching Viktor’s expression. “That’s perfect, actually.”

 

“We’ll make a list,” Viktor decided. “Of every way you want to lose it.”

 

“But that’s part of it,” Yuuri said, his frustration creeping into his voice. “Sure, the main thing I’m worried about is anal sex. But if there are other things that I don’t know about because I’ve spent my entire adult life with my head in the sand, socially speaking, I might want to try those things too.”

 

“We’ll make the list together,” Viktor promised. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s comprehensive.”

 

“That’s the point of the list.”

 

“Exactly,” Viktor said, tapping a finger against his lips. “Everything you want to experience--we’ll do it. But what I said earlier still stands. There’s nothing at all that we have to do.”

 

“It goes on the list,” Yuuri said firmly. “That’s half the reason I’m so worried anyway.” He stepped out of the shower and draped himself in a towel.

 

“Tentatively on the list. And we’re not starting with that,” Viktor called from inside the shower. “We’ll start with something simpler. There is so much more than that, and I want you to have everything.”

 

“Talking about this is stressing me out,” Yuuri said. “What if we just sort of...try things?”

 

“I liked that better, too,” Viktor admitted. “Then I won’t have to worry as much that I’m pressuring you into anything you aren’t ready for.”

 

“You won’t,” Yuuri said firmly.

 

“Still. You can always say no to anything, you know that right?” Viktor asked.

 

“Yes, Vitya,” Yuuri said. “But that goes for you too. I don’t know everything you do and don’t like, so please tell me no if you need to.”

 

“Of course, solnyshko,” Viktor agreed.

 

\--

 

Neither Yuuri nor Viktor brought up their discussion for another entire week, and with each day that passed, Yuuri became more and more convinced that Viktor thought he wasn’t ready to try anything else. 

 

“I’m a fake not-virgin,” Yuuri muttered into his coffee one morning, watching steam rise from the milky brown liquid and dissipate into the air. 

 

“As your fiancé, I accept my duty to relieve you of this terrible burden,” Viktor proclaimed solemnly, throwing himself into a chair beside Yuuri and slinging an arm across his shoulders. 

 

“I’m serious, Viktor,” Yuuri said, annoyed. “I feel like a fake.”

 

“I’m serious too!,” Viktor said. “I liked the list idea because then you could veto anything right away before we even tried if if you didn’t like it. But if we’re not talking about it and just going to..I don’t know, guess and do things, I worry that I’m going to do something you hate and you’ll get anxious and not be able to say no and I won’t realize.”

 

“If we talk about it I’m going to chicken out and not be able to do anything,” Yuuri said. He took a sip of coffee, the flopped his head onto his arms. “I don’t even know how to describe how anxious I get just thinking about having that conversation.”

 

Viktor shifted in his chair, then pulled Yuuri closer against his side. “I don’t like the idea of you agreeing to do something that you don’t even know what it is, though,” he said eventually.

 

“Haven’t I already done that?” Yuuri asked. “I don’t get what you’re worried about.”

 

“And I’d like to keep it that way,” Viktor muttered. 

 

Yuuri dragged his head up and took another draught of coffee. “I’m a wreck as it is. Can we just...do something? I feel like we’re both overthinking this when really I just want to kiss you.”

 

“Great idea!” Viktor said brightly. “I like that plan.” He leaned over and kissed Yuuri on the cheek. 

 

“Viktoooor,” Yuuri said, drawing out the last vowel in his fiancé’s name. “That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Oh, what did you mean?” Viktor asked, pretending innocence. 

 

“This,” Yuuri murmured, gently turning Viktor’s head and leaning their foreheads together. “I meant this,” he said, kissing Viktor, softly at first, then with a little more heat as Viktor responded enthusiastically. 

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor sighed. “I want to kiss you everywhere.”

 

“Go ahead,” Yuuri said, breathless.

 

Viktor sank to his knees behind Yuuri and leaned his cheek against the back of Yuuri’s thigh. “I’m so glad you aren’t wearing pants. This would be a little weird if you were.”

 

“What would be weird?” Yuuri gasped, as Viktor turned and pressed his lips to the back of Yuuri’s knee. 

 

“This,” Viktor answered. He brushed the crease of Yuuri’s knee with his tongue, pressing kisses higher across his thigh. “Mind if we get rid of these?” He tugged at the hem of Yuuri’s boxer shorts. 

 

“Uh, sure, I guess?” Yuuri’s assent was almost a question, but he pushed the shorts off his hips and let them puddle onto the floor. 

 

Viktor’s lips searched higher on his thighs, and Yuuri felt himself wobbling on his feet. Standing seemed like a herculean effort as his attention was drawn like a laser to the points of skin on his hip brushed by Viktor’s lips.

 

Viktor wandered closer to Yuuri’s spine, his kisses settled around the swell of Yuuri’s arse.

 

“V-Viktor, what are you doing?” Yuuri gasped, reaching out a hand to stabilize himself against the countertop. 

 

“Something I think you’ll like,” Viktor answered, raising his head and catching Yuuri’s gaze. 

 

“Aah--okay,” Yuuri sighed as Viktor pressed his lips to the side of his arse. 

 

Viktor poked at the muscle quickly with his tongue, them bit gently down and worried the area a little with his teeth, pulling of to inspect the blossom of purple. 

 

“Solnyshko.” Viktor’s voice was heavy with longing, and Yuuri shivered when he heard it. “How is this? Do you want more?”

 

Yuuri tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t coalesce in his fuzzy mind.

 

“Yuuri, do you need to me to stop?” Viktor asked, watching his fiancé’s face closely for a hint, but Yuuri’s expression was unreadable. 

 

“Please,” Yuuri finally managed to gasp, forcing the words out through his breathless lungs. “Please don’t stop.”

 

Viktor grinned and showered kisses along the ridge of Yuuri’s hip before returning his attention to the masterpiece of a hickey he was working on. He sucked at the area, putting as much pressure on it as he could, holding on until he felt Yuuri start to squirm, then pulling off with an abrupt pop. 

 

“There you are,  _ solnyshko _ ,” he said.  “Lovely.”

 

Yuuri twisted around, trying to get a view of it, but the angle was wrong. “I can’t see it,” he complained.

 

“Oh, you need to,” Viktor said. “Bathroom, now. Come on.”

 

Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s hand and practically dragged him down the hall.

 

“Oh my God,” Yuuri said, turning around in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror opposite the sink in Viktor’s bathroom. 

 

His arse was an abstract painting. Splotches of purple, red, and pink dotted Yuuri’s pale skin, and near the middle of his left cheek, a dark, almost blue spot bloomed against the pink backdrop. 

 

“I wasn’t sure if you would like this, but...“ Viktor trailed his fingertips across Yuuri’s thighs, feeling the warmth underneath the softest part of his skin. “It seems you might?”

 

“Very much.” Yuuri’s voice was soft. “That felt amazing.”

 

Viktor smiled and patted his arse fondly. “I’m glad.”

 

They spent a lazy afternoon in Viktor’s apartment, making the most of their last free day before skating practice resumed by watching Youtube videos and snuggling on the couch with occasional breaks for more serious kissing.

 

They called in for delivery and ate some udon that Yuuri proclaimed to be terribly inauthentic before returning the sofa. 

 

Yuuri pressed a kiss to the back of Viktor’s ear, just between his hair and the earlobe. He had felt a pleasant, low level of arousal all afternoon, a light tipsy buzz, but hearing Viktor’s moan as his lips touched his neck, the feeling started to coalesce into something more urgent.  _ I’m the only one who can make him feel this, _ Yuuri realized, and that tipped the scales. 

 

“Vi-Viktor, I need--” Yuuri stopped.  _ What do I need? Something. Viktor. More of Viktor, now. Somehow. _

 

“What do you need, my Katsudon?” Viktor’s words came out as a whisper as he traced his thumbs across Yuuri’s chest, feeling his nipples start to peak through the worn fabric of his tee shirt. 

 

“I’m not sure,” Yuuri admitted, closing his eyes. “I just...want to be closer to you. I want to melt your skin into mine. Sorry, that came out weird.”

 

“Hm. I have an idea of something we could try,” Viktor said, tapping a finger against his lips. “Let’s go to bed.”

 

“I’m not sleepy,” Yuuri protested automatically, then blushed as what Viktor really meant registered. “No, I get what you mean now, I just--”

 

“Good. Let’s go to bed,” Viktor repeated.

“Alright.” A hum of curiosity and excitement started to build in Yuuri’s veins, and turned to follow Viktor down the hallway. At the doorway to the bedroom Yuuri paused.

 

_ What is he planning? What are we doing?  _ Yuuri’s chest started to tighten uncomfortably as he watched Viktor step through the doorway, and he stopped just inside the door.  _ I hate this. I hate not knowing what’s going on. Here I am, supposedly not a virgin anymore and still following along behind Viktor like a clueless child. _

 

“Now then,  _ solnyshko _ ,” Viktor said, pulling Yuuri into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. “I think this will make you feel better.” 

 

In a flurry of clothes, Viktor was immediately, impossibly naked, and despite his growing frustration, Yuuri giggled. 

 

“How do you do that?” Yuuri asked, genuinely curious. 

 

“Practice,” Viktor admitted. 

 

_ Practice. Exactly what I don’t have, _ Yuuri thought bitterly. The word settled heavily onto his shoulders, and his cheer evaporated.

 

“I don’t...” Yuuri paused, uncertain how to put what he was feeling into words. “I don’t like always following you,” he said slowly. “I don’t want you to be the coach, not in this. Can...can this be something we learn together?” 

 

Yuuri wasn’t completely sure that he was asking what he wanted to ask, but he was desperate to try to put sound and form to the vague wisps of worry that had taken up residence in the periphery of his mind during the afternoon.

 

He glanced at Viktor.  _ Please understand. I don’t know how to say it but please understand. _ He was suddenly exhausted, as though he had run miles and miles.

 

Viktor twined his fingers through Yuuri’s and pulled him towards the bed. “Hey. Who cares that I can take my clothes off really fast? It’s a silly and useless thing to have practiced. Why don’t you show me how you like to cuddle best and we’ll go to sleep.”

 

Yuuri pulled back the corner of the duvet, and slipped underneath. “Oh wow the sheets are cold!” 

 

“Welcome to St. Petersburg?” Viktor smiled and climbed in beside him. Makkachin bounded up onto the bed after Viktor and settled against Viktor’s other side.

 

“This is a great bed,” Yuuri said, his voice already sounding foggy with the nearness of sleep. 

 

“I’m glad,” Viktor said, mid-yawn, as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my day! Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri’s phone dinged softly, the sound muffled by his pillow, but he woke instantly. This was it. Time to show Viktor….he took a deep breath, his brain and body fully awake now. Time to show Viktor his surprise. 

 

He lifted the edge of the duvet slowly and carefully slid out of bed, trying not to make any noise.  _ I don’t think I can do this if he knows _ , Yuuri thought.  _ It has to be a surprise. I know what I want, and I’m not going to let not being able to talk about it keep me from getting it.  _  One foot on the floor. He shifted his weight onto it and the floorboard creaked; Yuuri froze. 

 

Viktor didn’t move, didn’t even snore. Yuuri breathed a little easier, then slipped out of bed completely and headed for the door. He was glad that they tended to leave the bedroom door open at night; one less potentially disastrous creak to throw his plans off balance.

 

Yuuri crept down the hall, stopping in front of the linen closet. This door never creaked--he had tested it surreptitiously a few nights earlier while Viktor showered.

 

That, and the fact that it was packed with more towels and changes of sheets than two people could run through in a year, made it the perfect hiding place for Yuuri’s secret. There had been just enough room to squish a small, square black box behind a pile of folded towels. From the front, the linen closet looked completely normal. Innocuous.

 

There was nothing to give away the fact that it concealed the single most terrifying object that Yuuri had ever bought.  _ But I bought it because I want it,  _ Yuuri thought.  _ I want it and it scares the shit of me and that’s okay.  _ He took a deep breath and reached into the cabinet.

 

He reached back, past the towels, and felt his hand brush the box. His fingers closed around the corner and he dragged it out, then quickly resettled the towel pile so that it looked as it had before.

 

The linen closet door swung silently shut, and Yuuri breathed out, measured, slow. Next, the bathroom. The final door, and one that sometimes creaked. It was open a crack, and Yuuri inched it only a tiny bit farther open, just enough that he could slip inside and then close it again.

 

He didn’t turn on the bathroom light. He had practiced this at the store; he knew he could get the surprise ready without seeing what he was doing. The light could wake Viktor and ruin the surprise.

 

Yuuri opened the box and set it on the bathroom rug, where there was no danger of it accidentally falling and making noise. He gently unfolded the confection of lace and satin from the box, shaking it out a little in case there were wrinkles. 

 

Yuuri had taken every possible precaution to avoid noise at this critical preparation stage. He had removed and thrown out the tags on the way home from the store; he had undone the small zipper at the back. He slipped the bodysuit on, the lace and satin settling deliciously against his skin. The sleeves were long, black satin; the rest was satin with slashes of transparent lace across the chest that reminded him of his  _ Eros _ costume. 

 

That was the idea. The eros from that skate--he wanted to show it to Viktor privately. His fingers shook, but Yuuri slowly, quietly did up the short zipper in the back--most of his back was exposed, with a bit of lace around the back of his neck. The zipper ran down the middle of his arse, bringing together two black satin panels.

 

Yuuri was glad the lights were off.  _ If I see myself there is no way I can go through with this, no matter how much I want it _ , he thought. It was an odd feeling, wanting something so desperately but being terrified of it happening at the same time. 

 

He was as ready as he would ever be, Yuuri knew this. He took a deep breath, knowing that he would likely lose his ability to breathe somewhere along the way back to bed, and pushed the door open.

 

It was early enough still that there was no light coming in the window; Viktor still had not moved. He lay in exactly the same position he had been in when Yuuri got up, what felt like hours but he knew had only been, minutes ago.

 

The duvet on Yuuri’s side of the bed was folded back a bit from how it had fallen when Yuuri dropped it, and he barely had to lift it at all to slide back into bed and stretch out on his side next to Viktor.

 

_ Yuuri, davai! _ He remembered Viktor’s voice as he was about to go onto the ice, and somehow, impossibly, that settled Yuuri’s nerves.

 

“Vitya,” he whispered, leaning over Viktor and letting his lips brush Viktor’s ear.

 

“Mm?” Viktor’s asked, not opening his eyes. “ _ Solnyshko, _ it’s early. I don’t want to get up yet...” He trailed off and mumbled something in Russian.

 

“I have something for you,” Yuuri found himself saying. He nibbled on the tip of Viktor’s ear, then reached for Viktor’s hand and set it on the curve of his arse.

 

Viktor brushed his hand over Yuuri’s arse, fingers grazing the top of the zipper, caressing the strong muscle.

 

“What are you wearing?” Viktor breathed, awed.

 

“I--I was thinking about skating. About our skating costumes. And the eros one. This is--this is another interpretation of it,” Yuuri replied.

 

“I have to see you,” Viktor said, instantly awake. He pulled the blankets back and pushed himself into a sitting position, shaking his hair out of his face and staring down at Yuuri.

 

At Yuuri, who was covered in lace and blushing a deep red. 

 

“I--um, I don’t know,” Yuuri stammered, looking everywhere but at Viktor.  _ If I look at him I’ll die. I will literally die. What if he hates it?  _

 

“Oh my God,” Viktor breathed, and his hands were everywhere, skimming over Yuuri’s chest, fingertips tracing the lines where lace melted into satin, nails dragging against the seams. “You are so beautiful _. _ ”

 

“I’m not, I, ah--” Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s pillow and mashed it over his face. “Ahh, you like it?”

 

“I love it,” Viktor promised. “I love you.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Do you want me to stop?” Viktor asked, leaning back and lacing his fingers together. 

 

Yuuri squished his fingers into the pillow, thinking.  _ Yes? No? I don’t know?  _ “I didn’t really think this part through,” Yuuri admitted. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stop?” Viktor asked, tracing along the lace edge with one finger again.

 

“No, I don’t want to stop,” Yuuri assured him. “I think--I think I want to keep this pillow on my face, though.”

 

“Ooh, kinky,” Viktor teased. “I wonder...” Yuuri felt Viktor’s weight shift as he leaned over the edge of the bed, and then there was a sound of rustling --  _ was that tissue paper? _

 

Viktor made a small triumphant noise and sat up. “May I?” He brushed the edge of the zipper. 

 

Yuuri nodded, then realized that Viktor maybe couldn’t tell since his face as still firmly mashed into his pillow, but his attempt to clarify that didn’t sound like a word in any language. 

 

“Is that mmmf in a good way?” Viktor asked. “I’m not trying to tease now, I just want to be really sure.”

 

“Viktor. Yes,” Yuuri breathed, raising his head enough to get the words out and then squashing the pillow safely over his eyes again. 

 

Viktor brushed his fingers back and forth across the top of the zipper, teasing a bit before he started to pull it down. The bodysuit was tight and Viktor could see the line where Yuuri’s arse cheeks were pressed together until they disappeared into the part that was still zipped. He nudged at the zipper again until it was all the way undone, and kissed the side of Yuuri’s thigh. 

 

There was a small freckle at the edge of Yuuri’s left cheek and Viktor traced it lightly, letting his fingers wander gradually closer, further in. 

 

“The kind of sex we talked about about the other day,” Viktor said casually, as though he could ignore the fact that his fingers were wandering closer and closer to Yuuri’s arsehole, “it doesn’t usually start with that. There are stages, to make sure everything is safe and everyone likes it.” His fingers wandered a bit deeper, stroking a tight ring of muscle. 

 

“Oh, um, are there?” Yuuri squeaked out. 

 

“Mm-hmm.” 

 

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, even though they were safely hidden underneath the pillow, and suddenly his field of awareness narrowed to the tip of Viktor’s finger which somehow, impossibly, was--- 

 

“Oh my God,” Yuuri breathed. “Oh. Oh my God, Viktor. You. You’re--”  _ Oh my god I sound like an idiot close your mouth you utter moron--  _ “Oh  _ fuck _ ,” Yuuri choked on the word as Viktor’s questing finger pressed deeper, sliding against sensitive walls.

 

The sensation was abruptly gone, and focus flooded back into Yuuri’s mind, along with confusion. 

 

“Why’d you stop?” Yuuri heard himself grumbling and flushed, the words  _ needy bottom, needy bottom _ appearing in his mind in Chris’s voice.

 

“Since you obviously liked that, I have something better for you,” Viktor said. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s arse. There was a sound of a cap opening, and Viktor continued. “There are different sizes of these. I thought we’d start with a smaller one, for our first time.”

 

Before Yuuri could get a coherent sentence together, he felt something solid and slippery-wet pressing firmly against where Viktor’s finger had been before, and for a moment it felt impossible,  _ there’s no way that can-- _ but somehow, it was, and Yuuri let out a slow breath as he felt himself stretching as Viktor pressed achingly slowly into him, far deeper than his finger had been moments before. Yuuri’s thoughts were spinning, he was sure that it couldn’t possibly go any farther, but Viktor kept going, pressing slowly and surely deeper and deeper, and then Viktor’s cool hand on the small of his back brought Yuuri back to attention and he realized he was pleading for  _ what? _

 

He tried to press back for more, anything Viktor would give him. He had no idea, and then Viktor’s hand was gone from his back and was wrapped around him in the front and everything was warm and tight and later Yuuri would swear that he blacked out when he came. 

 

“Oh  _ fuck, _ ” Yuuri said weakly, face still muffled into his pillow. His belly was sticky and wet and his arse was beginning to get sore. “That was amazing.”

 

“Yes, it was!” Viktor said cheerily, planting a wet kiss to the back of Yuuri’s neck. “And in case you were wondering, you are  _ so much needier  _ than Chris. Damn, Yuuri.”

 

“Good,” Yuuri teased. “I’ll make you forget everyone besides me.”

 

“Wow! Such eros,” Viktor breathed. “Yuuri, you’re amazing.”

 

“You’re teasing me.”

 

“No, I’m definitely not. You’re shy and bold at the same time and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. May I?” Viktor tugged at the edge of the pillow. 

 

“Oh, fine,” Yuuri groaned, and then Viktor’s wide, earnest eyes were staring down into his. “Um. Hey.”

 

“So that was magnificent,” Viktor said without intonation. “But I didn’t get to kiss you on the lips  _ once _ and frankly I think that’s quite rude of you.”

 

“Oh, I’m rude?” Yuuri asked. “I forget, who was it that compared me to his ex approximately three seconds after taking my virginity?” He tried to look annoyed to irritate Viktor but only succeeded in giggling. 

 

Viktor stifled his own laugh, his eyes turning serious. “Is that what this was?”

 

“I don’t...I don’t know. Not completely, I don’t think,” Yuuri mused. “But more than halfway, at least?”

 

“Progress!” Viktor cheered, clapping Yuuri on the shoulder. “What’s next?”

 

“Sleep.” Yuuri rubbed at his eyes. “And then skating in the morning until my feet fall off. Oh--um, how sore is uh, normal? What happens tomorrow with practice?”

 

Viktor dropped a soft kiss onto Yuuri’s nose, then butted the pillow out of the way and buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. “Hm, it varies. I’d like it if you take it easy tomorrow on the jumps. No repeats of today anytime soon.” He nibbled at Yuuri’s collarbone lazily. 

 

“Oh, I’ll have to take it easy?” Yuuri asked. “What about you?”

 

Viktor paused, instantly focused on Yuuri. “Really? You want to top? Yes, please!”

 

“I--ah, I mean, probably not tonight,” Yuuri admitted, uncomfortable beneath Viktor’s eager stare. “That might be too much, too soon for me.”

 

“Maybe someday?” Viktor asked. 

 

“Maybe,” Yuuri echoed.

  
  


They took longer than usual dressing and getting breakfast ready that morning, Yuuri circling back to Viktor, nudging his nose into Viktor’s shoulder to be met with an arm snaking around his waist and a firm hand on his hip.

 

He might have felt more sheepish about it if Viktor wasn’t doing the same thing. He trailed after Yuuri in the kitchen, toothbrush still in his mouth while Yuuri made coffee, free hand trailing down Yuuri’s back.

 

Yuuri turned to open the fridge and bumped into Viktor, who was somehow doing up the zipper on his jeans while leaning his forehead into Yuuri’s shoulders. “You were too far away,” Yuuri muttered, slipping a hand into Viktor’s jeans pocket. “I wanted to be closer.”

 

Viktor laughed, delighted, and leaned into his touch. 

  
  


They held hands the entire walk to the skating rink, while Viktor chattered away about Makkachin and the choreography that he had secretly done for Yurio this season that he was hoping that Yurio would ask him for, and if Yuuri was honest with himself, later he didn’t remember anything from the walk except the warm roughness of Viktor’s hand in his.  _ Viktor’s hand, which only this morning had been--Oh God.  _ Yuuri counted breaths, then steps, then tried to concentrate on the sound of the snow crunching under his feet, until they were at the skating rink already and his thoughts were no more calm than when they had started. When Viktor let go of his hand to open the door, Yuuri bunched his hands into fists, opening and closing them a few times in an effort to stave off the (entirely fictional, he knew, but that didn’t make it feel less real) heart attack he knew was coming. 

 

It was a relief not to meet any other skaters in the changing room--somehow, even with all their lingering touches in the kitchen, Yuuri and Viktor had arrived earlier than anyone else to practice.

  
  
  


Yuuri fell three times during practice that morning.

 

The first was when Viktor called out “Nice, Yuuri!” after a particularly clean quad toe loop, and Yuuri spun around so fast, hoping to catch the proud gleam in Viktor’s eyes, and misjudged how close he was to the barrier at the side of the rink. He smashed into it, glasses flying, and crumpled to the ice. 

 

“I’m fine,” he called, dragging himself to his feet and brushing ice chips from his knees. 

 

“Be more careful, Yuuri,” Viktor scolded.

 

“Right.” He dusted himself off one more time, then pushed off from the wall and launched back into his free skate routine.

  
  
  


The second was a true accident. An irregularity in just the wrong patch of ice, a bump underneath his blade as he touched down after a triple flip sent Yuuri sprawling, landing hard on his arse. 

 

That one stung. Yuuri was used to being able to take a fall onto his muscled arse without much pain or worry, but he hadn’t expected to still be sensitive and a little sore from the morning’s activities, and a little gasp of pain and surprise escaped him. 

 

“Yuuri! Are you okay?” To his eternal mortification, Viktor glided over to him and offered him a hand up.

 

“M fine,” Yuuri muttered. “A patch of rough ice, that’s all.”

 

Viktor glanced around the rink. “Your poor arse,” he murmured when he saw they were still alone, settling a hand on Yuuri’s hip. “Was I too rough this morning?”

 

“No,” Yuuri said, getting to his feet. “Nothing’s broken. I need to keep going.”

 

Viktor drifted away reluctantly, watching as Yuuri circled the rink and picked up speed for a single axel, just to get his confidence back. Viktor chewed his lip, glad that Yuuri was unlikely to be able to see him worry, but Yuuri landed the jump flawlessly. 

 

Gradually, as Yuuri landed jump after jump cleanly, the vice grip around Viktor’s stomach loosened a little, and he was able to admire the elegant way his fiancé moved across the ice. With each jump that Yuuri landed he seemed to skate a little more confidently, and each landing was cleaner than the one before it until finally Yuuri was skating the way he had at the Grand Prix final. 

 

_ That’s the Yuuri I know _ , Viktor thought, watching his fiancé with pride.

  
  
  


“Oi! Katsudon! Who let you in here?” Yuri Plisetsky’s angry voice echoed through the ice, and Yuuri whipped his head around to see just as he was supposed to be landing an easy double toe loop.

 

The third time he fell, he fell hard. He stretched a hand out blindly, falling in a posture that skaters were taught from the beginning absolutely not to do. 

 

There was a crunch, a blinding pain in his wrist, and then Viktor’s firm hands on his shoulders, hauling him upright. 

 

“Fucking  _ hell _ ,” he sobbed, squeezing his right hand around his injured wrist.  _ It’s a wrist. It’s not your foot, not your ankle. Even if it’s broken in half you can get a thin cast and not tell anyone. Switch costumes to long, fluffy sleeves so no one can tell, _ Yuuri told himself sternly.  _ This isn’t the end of the season. I’m not going to let this be the end of my season. _

 

“Yuuri. Breathe slower,” Viktor said, holding his shoulders steady. “In, out. Come on.”

 

Yuuri shook his head and twisted out of Viktor’s grasp. “I just need---I just, I have to get out of here,” he cried, drawing a ragged breath and stumbling to his feet. 

 

He got himself off the ice and kicked off his skates, unlacing them halfway with his one good hand and leaving them where they landed as he hurried in his (increasingly wet) socked feet out to the locker room. He could hear Viktor berating Yurio distantly, as though there were a thick fog blanketing the rink. 

 

“юра, Посмотри, что ты сделал сейчас!” Yuuri heard Viktor say angrily. He thought he recognized “юра” as Yura, but he didn’t stay to find out what Viktor was talking about. He crashed into the bathroom, door banging against the wall, slamming the lock into place. 

 

_ It’s just like after the first Grand Prix final. Crying in the bathroom because of a stupid mistake on the ice. _ Yuuri leaned back against the stall door and closed his eyes, and then the tears really got started. As if they’d been waiting for him to close his eyes, acknowledge that he was finally ( _ finally _ ) alone and that it was suddenly impossible to keep all the fear and uncertainty that from boiling to the surface. 

 

Yuuri cried. He cried messily, silently, desperately. Salty rivers ran down his face, fat tears dripping and flowing into each other until there were no longer tear tracks but one massive deluge of anxiety and pressure running over his cheeks, nose, lips, everywhere. His throat ached, his eyes started to itch and burn. He rubbed at them, but that just made them feel more itchy, so he gave up and still the tears continued to fall. 

 

A creak: the door opened. 

 

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked, knocking on the stall door. “How’s your hand?”

  
  


Yuuri cracked his eyes open and inspected the offending hand. There was the beginning of what would probably be an impressive bruise, but only a modest amount of swelling. The tension in his mind eased a little as he realized it was likely not broken. 

 

“S’fine,” Yuuri mumbled.

 

“Do you want to come out and get someone to look it over properly?” Viktor asked. 

 

“No,” Yuuri said. 

 

“Ok, let’s just call it a day and go home then,” Viktor said. 

 

_ No. _ “Um...you go ahead. I might stay and practice some more,” Yuuri said. Home already, with Viktor? He would try to  _ start something _ , Yuuri was certain, and Yuuri had no idea how to respond or if he even could. Even the thought made his arms feel weirdly heavy, his shoulders sag even more than they already were.  _ I can’t handle any more of...that...today. Not after those falls. Not while I feel sore from yesterday. It’s too much. I can’t. _

 

“I don’t want to leave you alone when you’re hurt. Come one, let’s just go home and rest,” Viktor said. 

 

The walls of the stall seemed to swirl and shift, their uneven paint lines twisting and writhing in vaguely threatening shapes, becoming something out of a half-remembered nightmare. 

 

“No!” Yuuri yelled, louder than he had intended. “Just...I need some time. I need some time alone.” His voice sounded pathetic and pleading even to him. Childish. 

 

“All right,” Viktor agreed, but Yuuri could hear the doubt in his voice and imagine the dubious expression that was surely on his face. “Just...please come home soon, ok?” Viktor’s last words were quieter, and Yuuri heard the door opening and shutting, and then he was alone again.

 

He pressed his eyes closed.

\-- 

 

By the time Yuuri was done counting backwards from 400 by sevens in both Japanese and English, he figured Viktor and Yurio would probably have gone home. He grabbed his backpack and stuffed his skates into it, then shuffled out of the locker room to find the physical therapist who was on staff at the rink. 

 

“Well, it’s not broken,” the physical therapist said, after x-raying Yuuri’s hand and then bending the joints experimentally. “But I wish you’d come to me when it first happened. We could have gotten some ice on it sooner, prevented a little of this swelling.”

 

“As long as it isn’t broken I don’t care,” Yuuri said, accepting the ice pack the man handed him. 

 

“Try to be more careful,” the PT warned. “It could be worse next time.”

 

Yuuri nodded and gathered his things, wishing he could be out of there. He didn’t want to have to explain the other random bruises he had from the day’s earlier falls and he really didn’t want to have to explain the redness around his eyes. Or the soreness elsewhere. 

 

_ Nobody else can tell, about the skating fall or anything else, _ he told himself firmly as he finally escaped the skating complex, letting the doors slam shut behind him as he stepped into the swirling snow. The morning sky had been hazy and heavy with the snow that was now falling around him in feathery, dry flakes. Yuuri closed his eyes, imagining that each little dot of coldness that landed on his face was carrying away his anxiety as it evaporated. 

 

When he opened his eyes, he felt solid enough to face the walk home. Sometimes the anxiety made him feel like he was ink bleeding off of the edges of paper, or a cloth with the edges gradually fraying away and unraveling. But the breathing exercises, given to him by the doctor who had initially diagnosed his anxiety in college, did help some, at least when he had the presence of mind to start working on them before he was in the middle of a panic attack. 

 

The sidewalks had started to empty out and the cafes had started to fill with people trying to get an early dinner before heading off to start their Friday night revelries, and when Yuuri’s walk took him to the park about halfway between the rink and their apartment he was surprised to see that several of the benches near the chess tables were free. 

 

He flopped down onto one, letting his backpack slide to the ground with a puff of displaced snow, and was opening up a chat window in his usual video call app with Phichit before he even knew it. 

 

“Yuuri! Sawadee khrab,” Phichit said, answering his call after the first few rings. 

 

“Sawadee khrab,” Yuuri echoed. “Wait, are you on the beach?”

 

“Yep! It was so nice today, I told Ciao Ciao I had to take the day off!” Phichit sang. 

 

“Wow, and he went for it?” Yuuri was surprised. Ciao Ciao was notoriously hard to convince of unscheduled off-days. 

 

“I might have waited to text him about it until I was already here...” Phichit laughed. “But you’re done for the day, right?”

 

“Yeah. I messed up, Peach,” Yuuri said, feeling his eyes fill again and shaking his head. 

 

“Oh, no, what happened? I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you think,” Phichit said.

 

“I tried to do something...I don’t know, adventurous in bed, with Viktor. But I got kind of overwhelmed, and now he probably just thinks I’m a stupid baby,” Yuuri said.

 

“Ok, while I definitely do  _ not _ want any sordid details, there is no possible way that Viktor thinks you’re stupid or a baby,” Phichit replied. “So you know. Just take that right of the table.”

 

“And then I couldn’t focus in practice and I fell three times,” Yuuri added.

 

“But you’re not hurt?”

 

“No.”

 

“And since it’s you, no offense Yuuri, but seriously, I have to ask, did you even talk to Viktor about how you feel?”

 

Yuuri looked away from his phone. He kicked at a small mound of snow that was piling up next to his backpack instead of answering.

 

“Yuuri. My sweet summer child. You have to actually talk to him,” Phichit said in the sternest voice he could manage.

 

“What if he thinks its stupid, though,” Yuuri whispered. 

 

“Not possible,” Phichit declared. “When people say that someone looks at someone else like they hung the moon? Yeah. That’s usually an exaggeration but it’s literally how Viktor looks at you. But he isn’t psychic, my dude. You gotta talk to him.”

 

“Okay,” Yuuri agreed. “You’re right. I need to remember that.”

 

“Yep. I’m right about everything, and Viktor adores you,” Phichit said. 

 

“I wish I was at the beach with you,” Yuuri grumbled. 

 

“It’s perfect weather here today too,” Phichit said, hitting the icon to reverse the camera on his phone so that Yuuri could see the waves and sand behind him. 

 

“Looks amazing,” Yuuri said. “Just snow here.”

 

“You’re okay, right?” Phichit asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Yuuri realized. “I think I’m okay now. Thanks, man.”

 

“Seriously, anytime,” Phichit promised. 

 

“I--yeah. Thanks Peach,” Yuuri said.

 

He sat on the bench for awhile after Phichit ended their call, watching the snow pile up higher and higher around the tables and benches in the park. When the little pile beside his backpack threatened to bury it, Yuuri realized how cold his feet were getting and how long he had been gone. Probably Viktor knew that Yuuri’s Russian was good enough to get him home again if he had gotten lost, but...well, he knew that if the situation were reversed, he would be sick with anxiety already. So Yuuri dusted off his backpack, kicked accumulated snow off of his shoes, and trudged through the snowdrift-filled sidewalks towards home.

  
  


He could tell immediately from how much Viktor tried to gloss over his worry with wows! and amazings! and “your cheeks are so red, Yuuri!” that Viktor had a rough time waiting for him to return. 

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor began, kneeling to help Yuuri with his shoes when he noticed Yuuri fumbling with the laces with icy fingers, “don’t worry about today. I’ve seen you do those jumps practically in your sleep. Let me distract you from your worry,” he finished, pulling one of Yuuri’s socks off and kissing the arch of his foot.

 

“Ah--Vitya,” Yuuri gasped. Phichit said to talk to Viktor, and Yuuri did want to talk to Viktor, but right now he was pretty sure that what he wanted the most was to find out how Viktor intended to distract him from worrying about the fact that really, he should have been talking to Viktor. 

 

“Come shower with me? You’ve got to be frozen,” Viktor murmured.

 

“Yes,” Yuuri agreed, kicking off his other shoe and halfway tripping over the sock as he attempted to remove it with his toes. 

 

Viktor laughed and grabbed for the sock, which only succeeded in unbalancing Yuuri so that he fell directly on top of Viktor.

 

“Didn’t think I could get you on top of me this quickly, but overall I think my plan to seduce you in the shower is going pretty well,” Viktor said with a wink.

 

“Oh my god,” Yuuri muttered. “I’m sorry I almost murdered you by falling on you.”

 

“Like I said, this is exactly where I want you,” Viktor replied. 

 

“I believe I was promised a shower,” Yuuri reminded him. “Come on.” He pushed himself up, reaching out a hand to help Viktor up as well.

 

Yuuri thanked every god he could think of for the heated tile floors in the bathroom. Soon the door was shut behind them and Viktor had flung his clothes off which his usual abandon and warm, fragrant steam was filling the small room. 

 

“I thought we were showering?” Yuuri asked, looking at the tub that was filling with bubbly water.

 

“Can we do this first? I’d like to just hold you, for a bit.” Viktor sounded so uncertain that Yuuri looked at him with surprise, and then nodded. 

 

“Of course.”

 

They arranged themselves in the bathtub, Yuuri leaning back against an inflatable bath pillow and Viktor snuggled into his chest. Both their knees stuck out of the water, but the tub was big enough for them both to fit. The soaked for awhile, piling dripping handfuls of bubbles onto each other’s heads and exposed knees, giggling and splashing. Eventually the bubbles started to thin out, and their hands started to wander over each other in more intentional ways. Yuuri didn’t pay any particular attention to where his hands were going, but then Viktor  _ moaned _ , and Yuuri was mortified to discover that he had been tracing gently around the inside of Viktor’s thighs, and that the moan had happened when one of his fingers had accidentally ghosted over Viktor’s rim.

 

“Ah! Sorry,” Yuuri said snatching his hand away. 

 

“What? Why?” Viktor leaned back, craning his neck so that he could look at Yuuri.

 

“Well, you don’t...I mean...” Yuuri blushed furiously. “Chris said?” 

 

Viktor frowned. “What?”

 

“I thought...you didn’t do that. Because of what Chris said, that one time when I almost set the kitchen on fire.”

 

“Oh!” Understanding dawned on Viktor’s face. “Since you brought up Chris, maybe if I put it like this it’ll help? Before you, Chris was the neediest bottom I had been with, that’s true. But he’s also the bossiest top.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Yuuri whispered.   
  


“I’m a top, sure, but I’m also a bottom. I like it both ways,” Viktor said. “A lot of people do. Maybe most people.”

 

“Oh,” Yuuri said. He poked at a bubble that had settled around Viktor’s knee to avoid having to say anything else. 

 

“Actually, I was hoping that you might want to top tonight?” Viktor’s voice was indeed hopeful. 

 

Yuuri looked away from the bubble and studied Viktor’s expression. “What if I do it wrong?” he asked. 

 

“I’ll let you know. And I’ll talk to you the entire time. If you don’t like it, we’ll stop. Just the same as we would if you were bottoming.”

 

“Okay,” Yuuri said. “I am kind of curious.”

 

Yuuri would never be sure who started it, but suddenly they were kissing again, Viktor’s lips sliding wet and warm against his own, and Yuuri nipping Viktor’s lips gently, gently, until he opened them slightly and then they were  _ really  _ kissing, and Viktor moaned again and arched his back---and then four bottles of shampoo crashed into Yuuri’s shoulders and plopped into the water, bobbling half-empty and buoyant around their knees.

 

Yuuri couldn’t help it---he laughed. “You have more shampoo than any human needs!”

 

“Want to take this to the bedroom?” Viktor asked. 

 

“Yes,” Yuuri breathed.

 

Half the bathwater ended up splashed over the tile floor as they got out - Viktor kept leaning down to kiss Yuuri, who would end up giggling and leaning into Viktor, and by the time they were both wrapped in fluffy towels that had dancing poodles embroidered along the edges, the bathroom was a mess. Yuuri found it hard to care about that when Viktor was right there, so soft and warm and smiling between kisses. 

 

Then Viktor was taking his hand, interleaving his fingers with Yuuri’s, and leading him down the hall to their bedroom. Yuuri closed his eyes and let himself be lead. 

 

Viktor must have noticed at some point that Yuuri’s eyes were closed, because the hand in his turned into a pair of hands on his shoulders, guiding him down to the bed. 

 

“Hey.” Yuuri opened his eyes to find Viktor smiling beside him.

 

“What now?” Yuuri asked, surprised to find that he was somewhat breathless.

 

“Maybe I should ask you that,” Viktor teased. “What are we doing now, solnyshko?”

 

“Now I’m going to kiss you some more,” Yuuri decided, “and we’re going to lose these towels.”

 

“Ooh, I like the sound of that,” Viktor said. 

 

They kicked the towels to the side, and Yuuri shuffled closer to Viktor, pressing a kiss to each of his nipples. 

 

“Ah--” Viktor gasped. “Yuuri, please--again.”

 

“Really?” Yuuri asked. “I--okay.” He took more care, this time, first delicately kissing each nipple, then returning to lavish more attention. Soon Viktor was squirming beneath him, and Yuuri shifted, trailing kisses down Viktor’s abs. 

 

“Yuuri! So cruel,” Viktor said, utterly failing to sound accusing. 

 

“What,” Yuuri began, pressing a kiss to the base of Viktor’s dick, “do you,” he kissed a little bit higher, “possibly mean?” He caught Viktor’s gaze, winked, and slipped the head into his mouth.

 

“Yuuri!” Viktor was almost screaming. “You surprised me!”

 

_ I surprised me too,  _ Yuuri thought.  _ But you seem to like it, so I guess we’ll just go with this?  _ Yuuri hollowed his cheeks, taking Viktor as deep as he could, then pulled off. 

 

“But you had something else you wanted, right, Vitya?” Yuuri asked.

 

“Yes,” Viktor said. “Yuuri,  _ yes _ .”

 

“I--I guess I know what I like, but you’ll tell me if I get something wrong, right?” Yuuri asked, unable to keep his anxiety from his voice.

 

“Of course I will solnyshko,” Viktor assured him.

“Good,” Yuuri said. “Okay, I’m just going to--kind of--” he broke off, interrupting his words with a string of kisses to the side of Viktor’s thigh. He traced around the crease of Viktor’s as with a finger, slowly pressing inwards. 

 

“Yuuri, love,” Viktor said, and something in his voice made Yuuri stop. 

 

“Sorry!”

 

“No come here, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Viktor said, sitting up and wrapping Yuuri into a hug. “I was just going to suggest we get some lube.”

 

Yuuri felt his face burn.  _ Lube. of course. I can’t believe I forgot something that important. Oh god, what if he hadn’t said anything? I could have hurt him! Oh hell, oh hell. _

 

“Oh, hell,” Viktor said, and that was how Yuuri realized he must have been speaking out loud. “You wouldn’t have hurt me. I said something, didn’t I? Breathe, solnyshko,” he instructed, squeezing Yuuri’s chest to his own even tighter. 

 

“-kay. Right. You said something. Lube. Let’s get that,” Yuuri said, trying to force his breathing to even out. “I’m not having an anxiety attack. I’m absolutely not. We’re going to have sex and I’m not wrecking it with this stupid--” Yuuri couldn’t help it, he was crying.

 

“It’s okay if you’re having an anxiety attack,” Viktor said, keeping his tone light. “It isn’t wrecking anything. I’m still here. You’re still here. We’re going to go back to the sex as soon as we both want to. It’s okay, Yuuri.”

 

“It’s okay,” Yuuri repeated, after a few minutes of deep breaths against Viktor’s chest. “Yeah. Just going to breathe and give it a minute.”

 

Yuuri closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of Viktor’s heartbeat beneath his ear. 

 

“Take your time,” Viktor said. “There’s no hurry. Think about something relaxing. Remember when we met in the airport after the Rostelecom cup? Makka was so happy to see you.”

 

“I was really happy to see her,” Yuuri said, smiling. “I was happier to see you.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I missed the post-skating makeouts we had already gotten into the habit of having.”

 

“I missed those too,” Viktor admitted. 

 

Yuuri opened his eyes and found Viktor smiling up at him. “Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“I think I’m more okay now. Talking about Makka always helps me feel less stressed.”

 

“I’m glad. Do you still want to...” Viktor pointed at where their slightly softened dicks were mashed between the two of them, and Yuuri giggled. 

 

“Yes, if you do,” he said. “Sorry, just something about the way you--” he waved, trying to copy Viktor’s motion, and both of them dissolved into giggles. 

 

“I do too,” Viktor agreed, when he had stopped laughing. “Let me get something.” He gently extracted his arm from around Yuuri and leaned over the side of the bed, fishing in the drawer of the bedside table and sitting back up with a small bottle of lube. “The culprit,” he said, pressing it to Yuuri’s hand. 

 

Yuuri squeezed some into his hand to warm it. “Vitya,” he said, looking away from VIktor’s face, “I don’t think I can do this if you’re  _ staring _ at me.”

 

“Wouldn’t want that,” Viktor replied, kissing Yuuri on the cheek and laying back onto the bed. “I’ll close my eyes, how’s that?”

 

“Perfect,” Yuuri said. “And...you’ll tell me, if I get anything wrong again?” He curled up behind Viktor, close enough that they were almost spooning, but far enough back that he could get his hand around to the curve of Viktor’s ass.

 

“Of course, solnyshko,” Viktor promised. 

 

“Okay.” Yuuri waited until he was sure Viktor’s eyes were closed. The idea of Viktor watching...maybe later. He didn’t think he was ready for something that intense.

 

Yuuri let his wet fingers trace down the inside of Viktor’s thigh, gently wandering closer to his goal. He knew objectively that this felt glorious, when done right. When done to him the way Viktor did it.  _ But how do I give him that?  _ Yuuri didn’t know. 

 

_ It can’t hurt to start small?  _ All of his fingers were dripping with lube, so he touched at the delicate edges of Viktor’s hole with his pinky finger. 

 

When the world didn’t end, he traced around the edges, then slowly, slowly pressed inside. Viktor hummed contentedly, and Yuuri was grateful for the lack of words. _ I think I’d die of embarrassment if he actually said anything about what I’m doing. _ He pushed in a little farther, then wiggled his finger a little, quickly realizing why Viktor had not started with his own pinky finger when he had been the one topping. Yuuri slid the finger out, then started over with his first finger. This time, after a few gentle pushes, he had most of it inside, and Viktor was moaning again. 

 

“Yuuri, yes,” Viktor said, reaching for Yuuri’s hand. “More.” Yuuri allowed Viktor to twine the fingers of their free hands together, and he drew his finger out a little. 

 

“Is this...?” Yuuri trailed off, pressing carefully in at the rim with two fingers. 

 

“Yes,” Viktor said. “More, like that.”

 

_ Oh my god, what if my fingernails scratch him? Are they too long? I don’t remember the last time I trimmed them. What if they have edges? What if they’re sharp? Do we have to go to the hospital if I scratch him? What do I do? Oh my god. _ Yuuri forced the thoughts to the side, taking a deep breath, and trying to focus on making the slide of his two fingers into Viktor’s hole as easy and gentle as possible. There wasn’t much resistance, and Yuuri found that once inside he wanted to move them a little, so he scissored his fingers apart slowly to see what would happen.

 

Viktor moaned. 

 

“Oh fuck I’m so sorry Vitya, are you okay, oh fuck oh fuck,” Yuuri tried to pull his fingers out, but found that Viktor’s other hand was clamped around his wrist, keeping Yuuri’s fingers inside him. 

 

“No,” Viktor insisted, between uneven breaths. “It was a good scream, Yuuri, you’re a  _ god, _ that felt amazing. Please do it again a million times.”

 

“I--okay, yeah,”  Yuuri said, stretching his fingers apart slowly and then letting them come back together. “It’s really okay?”

 

“Better than okay. Amazing. Perfect,” Viktor said, loosening his grip on Yuuri’s hand so that he could smooth his hair. 

 

Yuuri fingered Viktor, adding a third finger and eliciting a stream of moans and “ah yes,  _ more,  _ moya lyubov” that sent interest flooding back to his own forgotten dick.

 

“Vitya,” Yuuri asked, stroking gently over what he had at some point realized was Viktor’s prostate, “how do you want to come? Oh god, I can’t believe I just said that. I sound like Chris.”

 

“My fiancé’s talking about another man while he has his fingers inside me,” Viktor whined. “Such eros, Yuuri.”

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

“I’m teasing, lyubov. You sounded so….in control. I like it.”

 

“Oh my god. I’m actually going to die.”

 

“Nooooo, Yuuri! Don’t leave me! Besides, I never told you how I want to come.”

 

“Right. Okay.” Yuuri took a deep breath. “How did you want to come?”

 

“However you want me to,” Viktor said, then winked.

 

“I---” Yuuri slowed the circles he was making with his ring finger inside Viktor. “I don’t---” 

 

“Your hand, please?” Viktor suggested. 

 

“My hand. Right. Yes,” Yuuri said, forcing out a slow breath after each word. He reached around Viktor with his free hand and wrapped it around Viktor’s dick. This was familiar territory, at least. Impromptu hand jobs seemed to happen between Yuuri and Viktor constantly; in the shower, in the locker room, just before falling asleep, when one of them was awake and the other half asleep: something about the feeling of Viktor’s dick in his hand grounded Yuuri.  _ I know what to do. I know how he likes this. I can’t accidentally hurt him this way. Everything will be fine.  _ Yuuri squeezed a little bit, then stroked and pulled in the ways that were so familiar to him, and soon Viktor was moaning again. 

 

“Yuuri, let me?” Before Yuuri could ask what Viktor meant, there was a warm hand around his dick, and Yuuri shuddered. 

 

“Oh, Vitya---” He hadn’t realized how hard he had become, ignoring his own dick while he fingered Viktor carefully. “I’m--I’m not going to last much longer if you keep doing that,” Yuuri admitted.

 

“Then I’m doing something right,” Viktor said, flexing his fingers delicately. 

 

_ He’s so---everything. It’s so much, _ Yuuri thought, the words spinning wildly into incoherence in his mind.  _ Need to show him. How do I?  _ Yuuri searched with his fingers, looking for that spot that he had lost when he had asked Viktor how he’d like to come, until his fingers grazed something and Viktor gasped. 

 

“Ah--Yuuri!” Viktor sighed, and then he was coming, and Yuuri watched in fascination, realizing that somehow he had started to come too. When they were both done, Yuuri slipped his fingers gingerly out of Viktor, and wrapped both arms around him, pulling Viktor’s back to his chest. 

 

“I know we’re messy, but can we just---”

 

“Yes.”

 

They might have dozed; Yuuri didn’t remember Viktor getting up, but by the time he was cognizant again his hands and stomach were clean of the mess that had been on them and Viktor was snuggled into his arms, the only evidence that he had moved being a pile of tissues in the wastebasket near the door. Yuuri pressed a kiss to the back of Viktor’s neck.

 

“So topping is mildly terrifying,” Yuuri said lightly. “I think I had approximately one near-panic attack per minute.”

 

Viktor laughed quietly. “You were amazing, though. I loved it.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really. And knowing that you were anxious because you were so worried about making it good...Yuuri, I’m so lucky. You take care of me so well.” Viktor snuggled closer into Yuuri’s chest. 

 

“I’m glad,” Yuuri said.

 

“So how was it for you?” Viktor asked. “Come on, a man’s gotta know. Am I going to get a repeat of this soon? Or was this a one-time thing?”

 

“Vitya!” Yuuri laughed, then grabbed a pillow that had fallen to the side and whapped Viktor in the face with it, ending up hitting them both. 

 

“Yuuuuuri,” Viktor said, drawing out the vowel in a way he clearly thought was seductive. “Are you going to keep me in suspense?”

 

“Maybe,” Yuuri said. “I think--I think yes.”

 

“I am truly hashtag blessed,” Viktor said, crossing himself exaggeratedly. 

 

“I don’t know if I want to do anything more, though,” Yuuri warned. 

 

“That’s okay,” Viktor said, his voice quieter and more serious. “Do you want me to top also sometimes?”

 

“Yes,” Yuuri said. 

 

“I think you should go first, though,” Viktor said. “You...doing me, I mean.”

 

“Okay,” Yuuri agreed. “This is weird. I’m actually not worried about it anymore.”

 

“Yuuri! I cured your anxiety with my fabulous ass!” Viktor cheered. 

 

“Please never say that sentence again,” Yuuri laughed, his face burning. “And look at that, the anxiety’s back. Oh my god Vitya, please swear you will never say anything like that in public. Never mind, who am I talking to? Of course you’re going to say something like that in public.”

 

“No promises,” Viktor said with a wink. The he sobered. “I know it doesn’t work like that, but can you blame a man for having a fantasy?”

 

“Your fantasy is that your ass cures my anxiety?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said or the weirdest.”

 

“Yuuuuuuri,” Viktor said. “I want to talk more about when you’re gonna give me the D.”

 

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said. “I’m sort of...I don’t feel like I need to worry about it anymore. I don’t think it matters that we haven’t done everything - I guess somewhere around the end of that panic attack I realized that there’s always going to be something we haven’t done? And maybe that’s a good thing. But I know what I want, and I know you’ll tell me what you want, and that’s good enough for me. So I guess It’ll happen, sometime? Probably sometime soon, with how much you keep pestering me about it. Let’s just let it happen when it happens?”

 

“That sounds perfect,” Viktor said. 

 

“You sound perfect.”

  
  
  


They missed practice the next day, but the expected grouchy call from Yakov never arrived. By dinnertime, Yuuri was wondering privately what Viktor had told Yakov to get him off of their backs, but decided he didn’t want to know. They spent most of the day in sweatpants and old tee shirts that had been softened by many washings, lounging around the apartment, never straying out of reach of each other. Neither of them said anything about it, but Yuuri guessed that after the intensity of the night before, they both wanted to keep each other close. 

 

“Do you want to go to that borscht place for dinner?” Yuuri asked eventually, when the winter sun had set early and they were snuggled together on the sofa, Yuuri sitting at one end poking distractedly at the new Fire Emblem game on his 3DS, and Viktor lying across the rest of the sofa with his head pillowed in Yuuri’s lap.

 

“It’s closed,” Viktor replied, twisting around to face Yuuri.

 

“What? No, that place was so great! When did that happen?” Yuuri asked. “That’s such a shame, after all the times you went there when you were younger...”

 

“What’s that? I’m still younger!” Viktor insisted, arranging his face into an expression of mock hurt. “And they’re closed because it’s a holiday. We can go tomorrow after practice if you want.”

 

“That’s why Yakov hasn’t been on the phone,” Yuuri realized.

 

“Yep. Thought you knew.”

 

“No, I figured you had told him something way too TMI to keep him off our case,” Yuuri admitted. “I just decided that if I didn’t know what it was I couldn’t be embarrassed about it.”

 

“Yuuuuuri,” Viktor said. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you. I know you like to keep things private.”

 

“Glad to hear it.” The sarcasm was obvious in Yuuri’s tone.

 

“You wound me!” Viktor gasped in mock horror. “I would never betray our sacred bond by telling other people private details of our relationship!”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, and reached to grab his phone off the coffee table as it rang. 

 

“Moshi moshi, Yuuri here,” he said.

 

“Yuuri,” Chris said. “I’m calling to congratulate you.”

 

“On what exactly?” Yuuri asked, making a face at Viktor, who suddenly looked studiously innocent.

 

“Keeping up with our boy. By now we both know--” Chris paused. “You know, I didn’t actually have anything planned for after that. I didn’t think you’d let me get that far.”

 

Yuuri laughed. “I’m as surprised as you. But it doesn’t really bother me anymore. I think ending up with half my hand up my fiancé’s ass while almost having a panic attack made me realize that that it’s fine. It’s all fine.”

 

“I’m glad,” Chris said. “I wanted to apologise to you for what you overheard the other day. I shouldn’t have said it.”

 

“It was uncomfortable to overhear,” Yuuri agreed. “But it actually made me start thinking about things I wouldn’t have otherwise, and I’m actually glad you did. I might not have gotten to the place I’m at now without that push.”

 

“Oh? And what place is that?” Chris asked, curious.

 

“Nothing major. Just um…” Yuuri hesitated, trying to string together the wildest and most improbable combination of sex acts he could think of. “Uh, sitting here on the sofa with my fiancé tied up at my feet. I’ve got a vibrating plug in him that’s been on for, oh, I’m not really sure how long now. It’s pretty great,” Yuuri said. 

 

“CHRIS,” Viktor yelped, grabbing the phone out of Yuuri’s hand. “I’m not--we’re doing nothing of the sort! Yuuri’s just somehow read my mind and knows what I wish we were doing. How very dare you, Yuuri, honestly,” Viktor said, handing the phone back to Yuuri.

 

“I was going to be extremely impressed there for a minute,” Chris said when he had recovered from laughing. “Bold, Yuuri. I like it.”

 

“Ah, thanks,” Yuuri said. “I can’t believe I said that.”

 

“Are you kidding me? I can. Such eros! It’s enough to get even me, a man, pregnant!” Yuuri could hear the awe in Chris’s voice. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t scar you for life. Take care of our Vitya, Yuuri?”

 

“Yes,” Yuuri said, and something in his chest tightened. “Yes, I will. For as long as he’ll have me.” 

 

“You’re perfect for him,” Chris sighed. “Well, cherie, I need to go. I have a hot date to get ready for.”

 

“Goodbye, Chris,” Yuuri said. “And...thanks for calling. I hope your date goes well.” 

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, when Yuuri had ended the call, and something in his voice made Yuuri lean down to look more closely at Viktor’s expression. 

 

“Are….are you okay?” Yuuri asked, dabbing at the tears pooling around the corners of Viktor’s eyes with hi fingertips. 

 

“As long as I’ll have you?” Viktor asked, his voice getting a little higher with each word.

  
“Of course,” Yuuri said. 

 

“Forever, then,” Viktor decided. “You know I want you forever.” He reached for Yuuri’s hand and pressed Yuuri’s ring to his lips. 

 

“Me too,” Yuuri said. “I want you forever too.”

 

“Lucky us,” Viktor said, his voice getting a little shaky. “We match.”

 

Yuuri brushed his lips against Viktor’s, and then something stiffened unpleasantly in his neck. “Oh--ah, ow,” he said. “Upside down is not a great position for kissing.”

 

“Lie next to me?” Viktor asked, lifting his head up. Yuuri shuffled over and stretched out beside him, and Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist. 

 

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” Yuuri said. 

 

They spent the afternoon there, cuddling on the couch, limbs intertwined, trading slow kisses while snow fell outside, and when it had been dark for some hours, they rose, hand in hand, and took themselves to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you thought of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments give me life, so please let me know what you think!


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